


Vaudeville

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard stumbles upon a curious display.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vaudeville

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MocaJava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MocaJava/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Bard stumbles upon two of the Dwarves having sex in his home. He thinks they don't see him watching, but they totally know and put on quite a show” prompt on [The Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=25511682#t25511682).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The dwarves are a secretive bunch, though in a way, Bard can hardly blame them: they look thoroughly worse for wear. Whatever travels they’ve been on haven’t been easy, and all Bard can do is sit in the corner and hope they didn’t drag that misfortune with them. He’s sent the kids out for the day, just in case this rowdy bunch of stout men is out for more trouble than he thinks. It leaves him with no one he trusts, and as much as he likes to see the good in people, he finds himself scanning them warily, though their whispers are too careful and furtive for him to catch a word. 

As he glances over the peripheral of their huddle again, his eyebrows knit together: something’s wrong. There don’t seem to be as many as he remembers. A quick head count confirms that two are missing, and that raises instant red flags. Pushing away from the wall he’d taken up against, Bard weaves through the mass of dwarves crowding his living room, peering about for the one with the funny hat—Bifur? No, Bofur—and the one with the star-like hair that ended in some sort of ‘Ri.’

But no matter how he searches, he doesn’t find the missing pair. So, in the interest of knowing what goes on in his house, Bard heads up the stairs—perhaps they stole off with some of his food or thought they’d pilfer some of his meager possessions. 

As soon as he’s up the landing, he hears a stifled moan over the shuffle below. Startled, Bard looks towards his bedroom, where the door is slightly open. Another noise drifts out: a lewd, drawn out, “ _Nori_...”

Dazed, Bard takes another step. He knows exactly what’s going on; the groan that follows is unmistakable. Sure enough, when he peers through the ajar door, he finds the dwarf that spoke lying on his back, stretched right along Bard’s bed, utterly naked, except for his hat. His legs are spread and his arms are up, holding onto plump hips, and Bard watches in mingled horror and fascination as a thick, dark cock slips down the side of Bofur’s face to dip between his lips, sliding in to fill his mouth. His eyes fall closed, his throat letting out another languid moan, muffled around his mouthful. 

The dwarf who’s cock it is—Nori, apparently—is above Bofur on all fours, his own face buried in Bofur’s crotch. His tri-fold hair is covered by Bofur’s creamy thigh, but his equally strange beard is fully visibly, draped across Bofur’s round stomach and digging into the dark hairs that surround the base of his cock, the shaft stuffed deep down Nori’s throat. His lips are pressed right up against Bofur’s body, and Bard can actually see the bulge in his cheek where his lover’s cock must be. At least, Bard assumes they’re lovers. For all he knows, dwarves all fuck each other all the time. Either way, he’s very glad he sent the children out. 

It’s obvious that they’re already halfway through, if not more so. Bofur’s hips are trembling in Nori’s grasp, Nori’s hands digging in along already-formed pink grooves, thumbs stroking about and exploring while the rest of his fingers squeeze and pin Bofur in place. Nori’s hips are bobbing down, up and impaling Bofur’s mouth before slipping out again, while Bofur’s hands busily trace Nori’s waist and lower back, occasionally dipping into the round cheeks of his ass. A few times, Bofur slaps them, and they jiggle in response, Nori groaning around his meal. Wet squelching sounds spill from Bofur’s mouth, but Nori is worse, groaning and sucking loudly. He tilts his face at different angles as he bounces up and down on the spit-slicked shaft. Bard has a tough time getting much of a view of Bofur’s crotch, but Nori’s legs are tucked forward enough that Bard can see almost all of his shaft and the heft of his hanging balls whenever he lifts high enough off Bofur’s face. Bofur doesn’t at all seem to mind having Nori’s pinkish sac drop against his nose, just like Nori doesn’t seem to mind tonguing Bofur’s hairy base, and Bard can smell the pungent scent of arousal and _man_ from where he’s standing. The whole thing is beyond inappropriate—it’s raunchy, it’s _filthy_ —and yet, he can’t seem to pull himself away. 

He’s never thought much of men before. But then, he’s never looked particularly hard at them naked, and here all he can see is two sweaty, flushed, exposed bodies, all pleasing curves and hard muscles, smatters of brown hair and the occasional mole or freckles. When Nori lifts up high enough, Bard even catches an intricate pattern of stretch marks across Bofur’s stomach that makes him think of his wife after Tilda was born, and leaves him to wonder if he’s mistaken the biology of Dwarven gender and physicality along with his own sexuality. Nori clearly likes the display as well—he occasionally lifts a hand to smooth over Bofur’s belly, as though caressing a fond memory or a particularly erogenous spot of a lover’s frame, and each time, it makes Bofur mewl sensually around Nori’s cock. Watching the thickness of their mustaches and beards surround their filled mouths makes Bard subconsciously lift a hand to stroke his own stubble. As soon as he realizes what he’s doing, he wrenches it away.

His breath is coming short, fast, and his trousers feel uncomfortably tighter than when he put them on this morning. A stern voice in his head tells him to walk away right now—this is creepy, rude, and altogether disturbing—but the rest of him clamours back: it’s their own fault for making love in _his_ bed with _his_ door open, and it’s been way too long—he can’t bring himself to walk away from a free show, especially with two exotic players who clearly share a deep love, or at least lust. 

Truth be told, Bard would probably stand here all night if the show went that long. But he’s also surprised they’ve lasted as long as they have—he doesn’t think he’d manage so well with such an eager mouth swallowing his cock. No sooner has he thought it than Bofur pushes Nori’s hips up, and his cock pops out, trailing spit from the straining head to Bofur’s bottom lip. A second later, Nori’s cock twitches, and it spurts a stream of white seed all over Bofur’s face. It gets in his beard, drapes into his mouth, and clings to his curled mustache, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, Bofur looks like he relishes it, and his eyes flutter as a moan spills out, his hand slipping down to grasp Nori’s cock and keep it pointed at his face. Before it’s even finished, he’s tilting his chin up to run his tongue along the swollen tip. 

Nori moaning draws Bard’s eyes away, and he looks down at Nori pumping Bofur’s cock with one fist, though the head is still between his lips, so Bard doesn’t get to see the details of what’s happening. He gathers that Nori’s swallowing from the way his adam’s apple bobs and he greedily sucks at Bofur’s dick, drinking everything down. At his crotch, Bofur’s now licking up the remains, lapping all around Nori’s crotch and suckling on his balls, like there’s no better taste in the world. 

And Bard, who hasn’t quite come in his trousers, is shamefully hard behind the door, trying to ogle both ends at once. He doesn’t know whether to burst in and shoo them off, avert his eyes and shout an apology, or slink off to the closet and make use of his hand. 

Before he gets the chance to decide, Nori pulls off Bofur’s dick. He takes a second to lick his lips, still happily eyeing his lover’s body, before his gaze shifts towards the door. 

Petrified, Bard stands stock still as Nori winks at him, calling roguishly, “Want to join for round two?”

Bofur rolls his head towards the doorway, grinning, like he either knew or doesn’t find anything surprising about being watched. Bard wrestles with the words to say he was only passing by and meant nothing by it and certainly isn’t dampening his trousers from watching two dwarves go down on one another. 

But then he watches Nori fondly nuzzle into Bofur’s stomach whilst waiting for an answer, and the ever-present craving for affection tips the scale. 

Bard mutters, “Fuck it,” under his breath, steps inside, and shuts the door behind him.


End file.
